


The Boy Who Sings Next Door

by MaybeDefinitely404



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Dogs, Fluff, Food, Hamilton References, M/M, allusions to past panic attacks, general anxiety, just-out-of-college au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:39:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28862685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaybeDefinitely404/pseuds/MaybeDefinitely404
Summary: Virgil doesn’t mean to immediately fall for the voice next door that seems to only be capable of singing Hamilton songs, but he can’t help it. And when he sees the man for the first time... oh boy. He’s hooked.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Kudos: 21





	The Boy Who Sings Next Door

**Author's Note:**

> Comments: I’ve been in a bit of a funk (not the good kind of funk) recently, and this is the only thing I’ve been able to churn out during it. It will have a part two, don’t worry. Gotta get that good Prinxiety content.
> 
> Comments (the sequel): This took almost a week to write due to said funk, so I apologize for any inconsistency that appears. I have edited this as much as my brain let me, so it should be good.
> 
> Word Count: 2.6k

Virgil hadn’t lived there for long. In fact, it was just nearing the one month anniversary of the day his two roommates and him had moved into the townhouse complex on the grungier side of town. They were still getting to know the house; the basement Virgil swore was haunted, the crudely attached cabinets that Patton very nearly pulled down every time the shorter man had to climb the counter to reach the top shelf, and especially the upstairs bathroom’s shower that would become scalding hot if someone flushed a toilet while it was running. Janus’ shriek was something Virgil wished he could have recorded on camera. 

Meeting his new neighbours was still a fear he had to get over. Patton had already introduced himself to all of them (on the first day living there, _with cookies,_ nonetheless), and was eagerly awaiting the day when Virgil would give the ‘okay’ to invite some of them over for dinner. He was especially excited about the man who lived to their left, a professor at the university across town that Patton claimed he had clicked with.

_“A professor? How old is he?”_

_“He looked like he was our age!”_

_“A professor who’s twenty two?”_

_“Well… maybe he’s really smart! Or has a great skincare routine!”_

Despite Patton’s obvious infatuations with the guy, Virgil was hesitant to meet him. He’d already had a less than promising accidental run in with the old man living on their right, incited by Janus parking in the wrong spot and poor Virgil being the one to open the door to the screaming neighbor. It had taken him twenty minutes to calm down from that panic attack. But after too many rounds of Patton’s puppy eyes, Virgil gave in. 

_“Only the one guy though, and I get to have a code word in case I need to leave.”_

_“Okay! What’s the code word?”_

_“I don’t know. You pick.”_

_“Tiddylicious?”_

_“SHUT THE HELL UP, JANUS!”_

Surprisingly, Virgil didn’t have to use the code word (which was not tiddylicious). Logan was a pretty great guy, if slightly lacking in the ‘emoting’ department. Patton and him got on like fire in a library, and his roommates happy wiggles the whole night was probably what gave the anxious man the bravado to stick through it. Janus even had the decency to make some honest conversation, which was a first for him. Logan eventually mentioned the fact that he had a dog, and the conversation immediately derailed into Patton squealing over the pictures he showed him. They took this as the opportunity to sneak away from the two, giving them the space they obviously needed. Gross. 

There was a line stretching across Logan’s backyard; a red cable that connected to his deck and reached to the fence on the opposite side. From this cord hung a pink leash, and to this pink leash, Logan attached his dog several times a day. Virgil didn’t know what the signal was for them, but every couple of hours, the sliding door would screech open and the dog would run to the gate closing off the porch, waiting impatiently until Logan clipped on the leash and let it run onto the lawn. The first time the small dog saw Virgil on his phone in the shade of his roof, it immediately took this as a grave act of terrorism and began to yap so loud that Virgil screamed. Logan quickly came back out, explaining that while his pup may have the intimidation factor of a stuffed animal, she thought all the grass of her yard and of the adjoining houses was hers to protect, even if the terrier was just about the size of a decent Thanksgiving turkey. A few head scratches later, and the two decently bonded, enough that she wouldn’t throw a hissy fit every time he sat on his porch.

That’s where he was now, half asleep in a lawn chair with one earbud in, when the tell tale squeak of Logan’s sliding door startled him from his rest. He reached up lazily and popped out his music, smiling slightly at the prospect of another conversation with Logan. Despite their age difference (it wasn’t all that much, but just enough that he got confused stares from the elder when he mentioned the prospect of ‘stealing someone’s kneecaps’), they were starting to become good friends. His hand froze, however, as he heard a voice that was very much not Logan’s coming from the man’s deck.

_“Dear Alexander,_

_I am slow to anger,_

_But I, tow the line,_

_As I reckon with the offense of your,_

_Life on mine.”_

And if Virgil said he didn’t immediately feel butterflies at the soft lilting of the deep voice, he would be lying. He shrunk back into his shirt, hoping the other wouldn’t glance over the short bush between them and see his blushing face. Even if he wasn’t infatuated with whoever was letting Logan’s dog out, it wasn’t like him to try and meet someone new.

The screen door shut with a loud whap and the dog pulled at the red cord as hard as she possibly could, trying to get free pets from Virgil. He obliged, but made sure to duck back to his side as soon as the door reopened. 

_“Raise a glass to freedom,_

_Something they can never take away,_

_No matter what they tell you.”_

He lurched back into his own house at the sound of that gorgeous voice, slamming the sliding door and consequently scaring the hell out of Patton.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“What’s gotten you in such a hullabaloo?” Patton squinted from his table of crafting supplies, where it looked like he was putting together more pages for his scrapbook.

“I’m gay.”

“Ah,” The older man scrunched his eyebrows together, setting down his glue stick, “For Logan…?”

“No! Logan’s yours, don’t worry,” he ignored Patton’s indignant spluttering and blushing, satisfied that he wasn’t the only disaster gay in the room now, “Someone else is at his house.”

“Someone cute?” He was suddenly very interested in his book, trying to hide his red cheeks.

“I don’t know.”

“Then why are you in gay mode?”

“His voice.”

“His _voice_?”

“Quit laughing at me!” Virgil snarled non aggressively, refusing to meet Patton’s bright eyes.

“I’m not, I swear!” Patton giggled nonetheless, “It’s cute! I’ll have to hear it for myself sometime.” Virgil huffed, despite his growing smile, and went to his room, too overwhelmed to wait outside for the voice again, no matter how much his heart wanted to.

A couple days later, Patton showed up in his open doorway (it was his attempt to be less antisocial, and it made his housemates happy) grinning like a child who’d just gotten a puppy.

“I just talked to Logan-”

“Oh?” Virgil smirked, closing his laptop in favor of tea.

“Oh, shush. He just said during the summer, he has these fancy shmancy teaching seminars every weekend just out of town.”

“So?”

“ _Sooo…_ ” Patton wiggled a little, sticking his tongue between his teeth, “When he’s not home, his brother watches Gremmy!”

“Gremmy?”

“How do you not know the puppy’s name? And also, _you’re focusing on the wrong part of the sentence!_ His brother is going to be there every weekend, all summer!” 

Virgil tried to digest the butterflies that exploded in his gut, failing to hide his reappearing blush. “So? We don’t even know if he’s our age, or if he’s into guys.”

Patton dropped his gaze, sucking his lips into his mouth in a vain attempt to smother his smile. 

“Patton?”

“He’s our age and he’s into guys,” He squeaked. 

“You asked?!”

“It came up naturally!”

“ _How?!_ ”

“Not important!” He was full on beaming now, hopping on his toes. “You should totally talk to him next weekend!”

“No. Nope. Not happening.”

The following Friday, Virgil found himself sitting on his deck under the roof, scrolling aimlessly through Tumblr, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he happened to see a new car pull into Logan’s spot thirty minutes after the man left. Nothing like that at all. He sipped absentmindedly on the lemonade Patton had brought him with a cheeky look on his face, trying not to think about the fact that the angel voiced man was right next door. And his heart absolutely did not begin to pound when the tell tale screeching of the screen door sounded.

This time, music accompanied the man’s singing as he hooked the dog, _Gremmy_ , onto her leash.

_“Angelica,_

_Eliza,_

_And Peggy,_

_The Schuyler sisters,_

_Angelica (Peggy) Eliza (Work!)”_

Even if Virgil had only heard his voice once, it seemed fitting that he was trying to sing every part, altering slightly to nail the voice changes of every character. He curled up a little more in his chair as the man followed Gremmy out onto the lawn, music still pumping from his phone.

_“Daddy said to be home by sundown,_

_Daddy doesn’t need to know,_

_Daddy said not to go downtown,_

_Like I said, you’re free to go.”_

Virgil couldn’t breathe, but that was the heat’s fault. It definitely wasn’t caused by the gorgeous man now dancing in small circles on the grass, dog jumping at his feet as he laughed along to the music. The sudden warmth in his face was caused by the sun, not the toned muscle of the man’s arms, or the way his much too loose muscle tee showed off his tan, or how his light brown hair flopped over his eyes when he bent down to pick up a stick from the ground. All while singing; just carelessly enjoying himself. 

_“Angelica, remind me what we’re looking for?_

_(She’s looking for me!)_

_Eliza, I’m looking for a mind at work (work),_

_I’m looking for a mind at work (work),_

_I’m looking for a mind at work (work),_

_Woah, woah, woah, woah, work!”_

The harmonies were too much, his voice flawlessly adding a fourth harmony where there wasn’t in the song. Virgil jumped like a spooked cat, fleeing into the house and drawing the curtains shut hurriedly. He knew the other man had probably heard the door slam, but that wasn’t his main concern right now. 

“Gay panic?” 

Virgil spun around to see Janus, all too bemused, sipping Gatorade out of a wine glass. The man’s sense of class would not be affected by the time of day. “Gay panic,” He confirmed weakly, sliding down the wall, “He’s _hot_.”

“Let me see.”

“Janus, no, what are you doing?!” 

The taller man pulled the curtain aside, humming under his breath. “Oh yeah, he _is_ hot.”

“Jan, stop!” He hissed, trying to tug Janus’ arm down from the curtain without being seen.

“Oh, he’s waving at me.”

“WHAT?!”

“Can I wave back?”

“NO!” 

Janus waved back, kicking Virgil lightly out of sight. “Let go of my sleeve, fucker.”

Virgil did, booking it upstairs as soon as Janus dropped the curtain. He flopped onto his bed with a groan that was almost loud enough to be a shriek, swearing to himself to not go outside for the rest of the weekend. And to kill Janus later. He did leave his window open though, but not because he wanted to keep hearing the snippets of song that floated up to his room every time the sliding glass next door opened. Not at all. 

Virgil hated that he ended up counting down the days until Friday, and that he couldn’t tear himself away from the window until _he_ arrived. Responding to his housemates giggles and stares with a quick flip of the bird, he took his usual spot on the deck. Because the weather was nice, and he needs a tan. No other reason. Not that he would say out loud, anyways.

He didn’t have to wait long until the door scratched open and a calm, almost haunting melody reached his ears. He’s singing along to a track again, mixing in harmonies that send shivers up Virgil’s spine.

_“I saved every letter you wrote me,_

_From the moment I read them I knew you were mine,_

_You said you were mine,_

_I thought you were-_ Shit, Gremmy, no, get back here!”

Virgil jolted upright as twenty pounds of fluff landed in his chest, paws digging into his sternum. The dog looked up at him with, dare he say, smug eyes? He ran a hand through the fur on her back, holding her collar with one hand in case she decided to bolt again.

“I am _so_ sorry! She wormed out of the gate before I got the leash on her!”

He looked up from the dog and _holy hell oh my god he’s way hotter up close_. Never before in his life had he wished for Patton’s bubbliness or Janus’ general aloofness, but now he would rather have any personality trait besides _anxious_ because _oh god_ the hottest guy he’d ever met is staring at him and he has no idea what to say.

“Well, good thing she likes me, or you’d be down a dog.” _What the hell was that?_

Surprisingly, the other man laughed, folding his arms across his chest. “What, you don’t think I’d be able to catch her?”

“In all honesty, probably not.”

“How _dare_ you!” He gasped, holding a hand to his chest dramatically, “I’ll have you know Gremmy _loves_ me!”

“I’m sure that’s why she booked it as soon as she had the chance.” He extended the dog almost comically, her too short legs waving frantically in his grip. The man took her with a murmur of thanks, giving her a stern look that made Virgil snicker. A part of him was slightly shocked that someone related to Logan could be so… relaxed. The older man seemed held together purely by stress and logic, never without a collared shirt and tie, and he would definitely never be seen in the plain white v-neck this guy was wearing _really_ _well_.

“So, you’re Logan’s brother?” _Where the hell was this courage coming from?!_

“Yup. You know him?” 

“About as well as I know any of my neighbors. So, barely. But he’s close with my roommate.”

The man’s expression turned to glee as he shifted the dog in his arms. She seemed unhappy being held when there were birds to be chased, but her struggle was lazy. “Patton, right? I’ve heard a lot about him.”

“Oh?”

He hummed happily, fiddling with Gremmy’s collar. “It’s about time Logan found someone who makes him happy. We never really understood each other when it comes to interacting with other people. He’s more secluded nerd, and I’m more…” He trailed off, waving his fingers under the dog cluelessly.

“More theatre nerd?” Virgil guessed, pleased with the way the man’s eyebrows flew up.

“How’d you guess that?”

“You’ve been singing a different Hamilton song every time you’ve taken the dog out.”

Instead of looking embarrassed or upset like Virgil would definitely be in his situation, he seemed to puff up more, almost delighted.

“Ah, I thought I had an audience! That was you?”

Virgil could feel his face turning beet red, much to his chagrin. This was it, this was the moment he died. Let the earth open up and swallow him whole, his little pride had been too wounded to continue. The man took his silence as answer enough, seemingly pleased with the reaction.

“I’m Roman,” The man grinned, holding out his hand. He took it hesitantly, the touch sending a shock up his spine that he was barely able to suppress.

“Virgil.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Virgil.”

He couldn’t help the authentic smile that tugged on his lips as they shook hands, Gremmy dangling from Roman’s other arm like a football.

“You too, Roman.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Tumblr, come say hi!


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